


Somewhere Over The Rainbow

by castleheart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesiac Charlie, And Lots of It, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8700946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castleheart/pseuds/castleheart
Summary: Charlie Bradbury made an impact on a lot of people... Including God himself. When Chuck hears of her death, he gives her a second chance at life. He erases her memory, in hopes that she'll find a life away from the Winchesters. A safe one. But Charlie was never the type to go along with someone else's plans. Charlie/OC in future chapters.





	

Charlie Bradbury never wanted to have siblings. Growing up, she was always told that she was lucky that she didn’t have a brother or a sister. She had all her family’s attention, lots of presents on Christmas, no one else to worry about except herself, and no one to live up to. She was always glad that she was alone.

Until she met the Winchesters.

After her first encounter with them; she honestly had no intention of ever trying to talk to them or see them again. She didn’t want to get dragged into their complicated lives—or their complicated world. Especially now that she knew what was really out there.

But a small part of her… Missed them.

What could she say? They kinda grew on her.

Despite her less than welcoming words when they met again; she was relieved to see that they were alight… For the most part.

The next thing she knew, she had been adopted into the Winchester family. And it wasn’t as bad as she thought. She finally got what she wanted; an adventure. Journeying to Oz with the beautiful Dorothy at her side, was something she’d never get to do if she hadn’t met the Winchesters. She became stronger over the years that she knew the brothers. She was finally something she always wanted to be; brave and strong.

The Winchesters were the brothers she never wanted, but was blessed to have.

Even on the night of her death; she didn’t regret meeting those boys—even if she knew it was pretty much a death sentence.

Being a friend of the Winchesters was pretty much suicide. She knew that; hell, she read all the Supernatural books. But she didn’t care, she spent all her life being afraid to live—and she was done running away.

She was ready to die for them.

All her life, she was a coward. Always afraid, being cautious at every turn. But that night, she reached within herself and found that she wasn’t scared. Not of dying, and certainly not of Styne.

Bravery, or maybe stupidity, drove her to smash that tablet and take him head on. She hoped that she put up at least half a good fight.

They tangoed with each other for a few good minutes, before he managed to grab her own sword out her hand. He knocked it away with the back of his one hand; then kicked her in the gut. It sent her tumbling back against the tub; she scrambled to get her bearings, trying to use the shower curtain to pull herself to her feet. But by the time she got to her feet, he was facing her with her own sword in his hand.

He swung, she ducked. She tried to step past him and out the bathroom, but he kicked the back of her knee, causing her to stumble. She rolled over on her back, and as she did this, he leaned over her and stabbed her in the stomach.

Pain raced up her spine, causing her eyes to widen in shock. Blood was already spilling out the wound, staining the floor beneath her and soaking her. She could only choke out a shocked gasp as her eyes met those of her killer. His bright blue eyes were glittering with glee; a satisfied snarl on his lips. He roughly yanked the blade free of her flesh, the sound of it, on top of the searing pain that caused, made her cry out.

“Bet that hurt,” he growled, a smirk spreading on his features.

Her vision was getting blurry, but she fought to keep her eyes open. She grit her teeth, it was hurting so much, “Bastard,” she managed to spit out.

“Oh, still have the strength to speak?” He taunted, tossing aside her sword. He leaned over her again, his one arm wrapping around her waist and suddenly dragging her up, “That’ll change soon, bitch.”

He unceremoniously dumped her into the tub/ Her head banged against the wall of the shower, causing her blurry vision to get worse. The pain stopped for only a moment. But she was pretty sure that was the shock settling in.

Styne picked up her broken tablet, and attempted to turn it back on. The device didn’t respond, leaving the man to only stare at the broken screen.

He yelled out in anger and frustration, throwing the tablet against the floor like an angered toddler. He spun on her, glowering over with fire in his eyes, “Where is it?” he snarled behind gritted teeth.

Charlie felt a wave of triumph wash over her, even if there were black dots dancing in her vision now.

“You’ll never find it,” she managed, feeling blood drip down the corner of her mouth.

“Tell me, bitch!” He yelled, grabbing the front of her novelty shirt and lifting up her torso a bit, so that they were nose to nose now.

Glaring straight into his eyes, she smirked gleefully, “Suck a dick.”

He held her gaze for a moment, before growling sharply and releasing her shirt.

The ginger slumped back into the tub; sighing softly as she attempted to relax against the ceramic. He marched out the bathroom, leaving her to bleed to death in peace.

She stared up at the ceiling as she bled out, one hand resting on her stomach in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. But she knew this was it.

Faintly, she heard the loud ruckus outside. He was probably tearing the motel room apart; trying to find something that wasn’t there.

It was getting harder to breathe, but Charlie still fought to. The pain was burning, but she could feel herself slipping away. She heard the motel door open; Styne had given up trying to find anything. She smiled softly to herself… She did it. She cracked the code to the book of the damned, and got the boys one step closer to getting the mark of Cain off Dean.

The rest… Was up to them.

Her eyes were closing of their own accord. She fought a good fight; she hoped. There was no one she was going to miss more than those boys.

Head sagging to the side; her eyes closed fully.

They didn’t open again.

* * *

Seeing your own dead body was unsettling, and weird too. She couldn’t help but wish she died in a more dignified manner, not in the tub.

Damn that Styne.

She looked down at herself, and noticed that there was no blood staining her shirt. Was she a ghost now? Well, obviously.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching. Head snapping up, she caught sight of Sam and Dean in the doorway.

“Ch—Charlie?” Dean stammered upon seeing her dead body, and Sam almost gagged at the sight of her. She couldn’t blame them; she didn’t die in a clean or pretty manner. They both wore grief stricken expressions; staring at their dead friend in the tub.

“A bit late guys,” Charlie commented drily, but they didn’t look her way. She nearly forgot that they couldn’t hear or see her.

Dean rounded on his brother, fury and sadness in his eyes, “This is your fault!” he jabbed an accusing finger at him, “You brought her into this, you were supposed to protect her!”

Sam’s eyes were filled with mourning, tears gathering at the edges, “Sh—she did it for you,” he tried, his voice choked up, “She wanted to save you—“

“And look at how that turned out for her!”

It broke Charlie’s heart to see them fighting, “It’s not his fault Dean,” she murmured, even though she knew that they couldn’t hear her, “… Or yours.”

“Dean—“

“I don’t want to hear it!” Dean turned his back on his brother, “Now, I have to bury one of our friends. Again.”

She knew what they were going to do; burn her body. It was a hunter’s funeral… But was she even technically a hunter? Yeah, she did a few jobs here and there, but did that instantly categorize her as a hunter?

“Celeste Middleton.”

Charlie jumped slightly; spinning around, she met the eyes of a beautiful woman. She was a bit taller than her, with dark chocolate skin, long, bouncy curls and almond shaped brown eyes. She looked like a regular person; wearing a black shirt, jeans and heeled boots, with a cute purple leather jacket. She was quite attractive; and definitely Charlie’s type. She’d be hitting on her if they were in a different circumstance.

“Don’t call me that,” she left that name, that identity, a long time ago.

The mysterious woman rose an eyebrow, “What shall I call you then, your majesty?” the sarcasm was evident in her tone.

“Ch—Charlie is fine,” she replied, “Who are you?”

“Billie,” the woman answered, “And I have a feeling that you know why I’m here.”

The ginger nodded solemnly, “You’re a reaper,” she stated, green eyes meeting brown, “And you’re here to take me to… Well, I’m not sure to be honest.”

Heaven or hell, she just didn’t know. She felt like she had been good enough to get into heaven, but she wasn’t sure.

“So I can skip the spiel about you not belonging here anymore,” Billie replied, uncrossing her arms, “that’s rare.”

Charlie turned around to look at the boys—her boys, “I can’t leave them,” she whispered, sadness hitting her like a wave, “Th—They still need me.”

“No, they don’t,” Billie says, her voice firm, “Your time here is up. You don’t belong here anymore, Charlie.”

She knew Billie was right. Her heart was breaking in two, and suddenly she felt a tear slide down her cheek. Huh, even spirits could cry.

“Where am I going?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Charlie was expecting that answer. The ginger watched with weary eyes as the brothers wrapped her dead body in a sheet and carry her out the bathroom.

“But I can tell you this,” Billie paced around her so that she could face her again, “It’ll be better than being here.”

Seeing the uncertainty in Charlie’s eyes, she continued, “Look, I can’t force you to come with me—even I have to follow rules. But if you don’t come with me now, you’ll be stuck here for all eternity. You’ll fade away, stuck in a world where you don’t belong and all alone. I doubt that’s what you want.”

Charlie’s eyes lowered to the ground, “No…” she answered after a long moment of silence, “It’s not.”

The reaper smiled— but it was not unkind mind you, “You coming, then?” she asked, offering her hand.

The ginger looked at the spot where she died; one last time. Blood stained the ceramic tiles and the tub, as well as the shower curtain. Her blood. Sucking in a deep breath—even though she didn’t need to—she nodded at her, “Yeah.”

She took her hand, and was enveloped in white.

* * *

 

When she opened her eyes; she was laying in the middle of a field.


End file.
